Nessie
by Hardly Here
Summary: There's a monster in the loch.
1. Marshmallow Time

**The following short fic was brought to you by the FFFF. But more on that in the future.**

Mike's fingers squeezed soft, white flesh and a smirk grew on his face when a slightly hoarse voice told him that was making him more aroused than was perhaps necessary given the lateness of the hour.

"Ha, I have no idea what you're saying. Must be the accent."

"I haven't got an accent, it's you Americans who have the accent."

Mike smirked again, giving the pale skin another squeeze. He pinched it between his finger and thumb and ran his tongue along it.

"Oirish."

"That's how yer meant to say it."

"Oi-rish." Mike enjoyed the way the strange pronounciation rolled off his tongue. He also enjoyed the white, fleshy, soft... powdery...

Sheamus snatched the bag of marshmallows out of Mike's hands and grabbed his chin in his massive fist, squeezing hard.

"Let go!" Spluttered Mike, clawing at Sheamus's arm. Sheamus didn't respond, didn't release his hold, he simply half-dragged the smaller man over to the bed and pushed him down firmly.

"This is what you get for teasin me like that," growled Sheamus, unbuttoning his shirt and flinging it to the side. He was crouched over Mike, ready to pounce, when a funny thought occurred to him.

Mike reached up and grabbed Sheamus's pectoral muscle, kneading at it gently.

"What the fock're you-"

Mike giggled a little, and reached up and licked Sheamus's chest.

"You're all white... and pasty... and kinda squishable, but in a firm kinda way..." he snickered

"you're like a marshmallow!" he concluded, but the thought was put abrubtly to an end by the larger Irishman claiming his lips, to shut him up, if anything. Mike responded, arching upwards and sliding his hand around Sheamus's waist.

"You taste kinda sweet too," he murmured.

X

**Feature fic will be posted tomorrow night, starring Drew McIntyre and Evan Bourne in "Nessie"**


	2. Nessie: Part 1

**SO LATE RIGHT NOW XD but a promise is a promise.**

**X**

**Nessie: Part 1**

Evan was always alone, even as a child. He was possessed with an almost overwhelming desire to understand things, and would spend far too much time thinking about things to really develop the skills to speak to others. He had a strange, quiet wisdom which frightened other people but he didn't mind. Talking tired him out terribly, crowds frightened him away. The only comfort he found was the brook, whose eternal tinkling brought him no end of pleasure. He knew every twist and turn the water made as it crashed about the rocks and poled in mossy outcrops. He had made a few modifications to it himself over the years.

As a teenager he began to follow the brook further; it ran through two towns before it reached the loch, and there it died. One day, after having endured the seemingly endless taunting of the rest of the towns children, he ran. He had never really found much use for it before; he was a slight creature, built for quiet contemplation and far gentler activities. Violence frightened him, and he had been spanked proper by his father many a time for refusing the schoolhouse's games.

He slowed to a fast walk by the time he reached the first town, and was tired out by the second. Only the sparkling water seemed to beckon to him with its song, and as he stopped to drink, he fancied he could hear it call his name.

_I'll keep going until I tick the loch._

By now he was stumbling through the undergrowth, too tired to keep his footing properly. The sun was fast beginning to set and he hoped there would be a some fishermen, or _something_ there who could offer him some hospitality for the night.

Finally, his feet became harder and harder to drag out of the mud, and he had to stop. His hand grasped at a nearby sapling and he leaned against it, panting, trying to take the weight off his aching legs.

"Ye've no' been here before, laddie."

Evan jumped at the sound, and began to look around wildly.

"Wh-who's there?"

"There?" A tallish man stepped up beside him and grabbed his hand. He gazed into Evan's eyes for a few moments, head cocked curiously to the side.

"Yer no' fisherman, I can tell that." His mouth quirked into a funny half-smile.

"Ye've no' been payin' no mind tae yer mother's words neither."

"My mother's a haverin' wretch like the rest of the town," said Evan sadly. There was no bitterness nor anger in his words, just a terrible longing and regret that they were so... mundane.

"Well be that as it may, if ye _had_ minded her ye'd ken the monster around these parts."

"The kelpie?" whispered Evan

"Aye, the kelpie. And ye don't go endin' yer day at the loch, else bad things'll happen."

Evan thought for a while, considering the strange man in front of him.

"Then why're you here?"

The man smiled again, a handsome, knowing half-smile. A slight breeze swept the golden strands of his hair into the last dregs of sunlight, turning them into a kind of surreal halo. It was then that Evan noticed the oddness of the man – he looked far too elegant and noble to be from these parts. His tunic was made of a strangly soft cloth which clung loosely to his lithe frame, and he was wearing a kilt. Odd for these parts. It was of a blue tartan, dark interwoven with light.

"Yer a canny one, lad," the man winked, then walked off into the distance.

"Wait!" Called Evan, but all he heard was a splash, and then the sun dipped below the horizon and it was too dark to see.


	3. Nessie: Part 2

**I'm sorry that now uni's started up again, plus I've got a bunch of jobs lined up I won't get on the computer as much : (**

**This is for Miss Kimberley, so it's here when she wakes up, even if I'm not.**

**X**

A few hours later, Evan was missing his home thoroughly. The most comfortable place he could find to sleep was in a tuft of heather, which was damp and did nothing to keep out the chill of the night. He was near the brook though, which gave him some comfort and – despite his shivering – lulled him to sleep.

He slept but for a few hours, and was plagued by odd, vivid nightmares of his town, all the times he had been scolded and teased, simply for not wanting to be among the others. The whole time there seemed to be a silent shadow standing behind him, guarding him, but every time he turned to reach out for him he vanished with a splash.

Evan woke to dark, grayish moonlight. He became aware that he was wrapped in a warm piece of tartan. Everything was gray from the lack of light but somehow he knew that it was blue, dark interwoven with light. His eyes flickered upwards, and there was a figure sitting nearby. He was a mere silhouette in the wake of the moonlight, though wisps of his hair caught the moonlight and seemed to shine like dappled silver. He sat very still; Evan couldn't tell whether his eyes were open or not but he could imagine that they were open, trained unblinkingly on himself.

There was a rustle in the distance, and the man snapped to attention, every muscle suddenly tense and alert.

Again a rustle, and the howl of an unnamed animal in the distance. He sprang up and was gone in an instant, so silently it seemed as though he really were a shadow slipping through the trees in the night. Somehow Evan felt comforted in the knowledge of his protector, and fell back asleep.

X

When Evan woke again it was only just morning, and still quite chilly. The man was nowhere in sight, there was only the faint chirping of birds and the brook to remind him of where he was.

The thought of heading back never occurred to him; he was content to sit wrapped in the blue tartan (he had been right) and wait for the man to return. Because he would. Evan was sure of it.

A couple of hours later, Evan was sitting by the loch looking out at the men in their boats when he felt a sudden presence beside him.

"Evan," the word was a mere breath, whispered into existence beside his ear. It sent shivers down his spine. He knew better than to question how the man knew his name; that and he was almost too afraid to speak to him for fear he would disappear again.

"I'm no' goin' anywhere," smiled the man. Evan turned to thank him, but stopped abruptly.

"Thank you...uh..."

"Ye can call me Drew, of the McIntyre clan." The sun had turned the silken threads of his hair to gold once again, and Evan was almost too busy staring at it to notice the change in his new... friend.

He still held himself proudly, but there was now a strange weariness in his eyes. As though he had just recovered from a long illness, or been hard used. His tunic was torn at the back, two long gashes which grazed the skin. The wounds had dried which was good, but it still looked painful.

"What gave you that?" Asked Evan timidly.

Drew's eyes flickered momentarily towards the loch, but he said nothing.

"Was it the Kelpie?"

He shook his head slowly and sighed.

"Does it... hurt?" Evan reached over but Drew hissed and scooted away.

"_Aye_ it hurts," His eyes squeezed shut in pain and he exhaled with a whoosh of air.

They sat side by side then, for the rest of the day. Drew seemed to exude a similar air of loneliness that Evan felt, a kind of feeling that he didn't quite belong with society. They didn't need to talk, they just stayed watching the gentle ripples in the water of the loch, happy that they had found each other. As the sun began to set once more it grew colder, and they shuffled nearer and nearer for warmth until Evan's cheek was resting lightly on Drew's shoulder, and the larger man had his arm around his waist. Despite the fact that they hadn't moved though, Drew seemed to be growing weaker and weaker as the day wore on. Every now and again an expression of pure agony would cross his features and his arm would tighten its grip on Evan's waist.

"Is it the scratches?" asked Evan softly, when it became apparent that the pain was really becoming too much for his friend.

"They're nae mair than just that, scratches." Breathed Drew, "Donnae worry about it."

Evan knew better than to press the issue. More hours passed, and somehow by the time the sun was setting, Drew was propped up against a nearby tree, Evan curled up in his lap.

"I have tae go away for a while." He sighed, obviously the thought of leaving upset him deeply.

"Go tae sleep, I'll be here when ye wake up."

Evan nodded, and scrambled out of his lap so he could stand. Drew struggled to get to his feet and now it was he who was leaning against the tree, panting heavily.

"Will ye be alright?"

Drew nodded, and staggered off into the distance.


	4. Nessie: Part 3

**(For when I'm not around to make you smile)**

**Thanks to everyone who was interested in this fic, I didn't think that many people would want to read a random fic about evan and drew and the loch ness monster XD**

**Marshmallow time and Nessie parts 1, 2 and 3 brought to you by the FFFF.**

**X**

Evan couldn't sleep. He lay wrapped in the blue tartan, looking out to the waning moon as it sent ripples of light across the loch. It was even lonelier at night. So quiet, so serene...

A movement in the distance caught his attention, and his nerves were shocked to the core as the head of a mighty creature broke through the surface of the water with a mighty whinny. It was a horse – though of what breed Evan couldn't tell. It seemed to be a type all of its own, at once sleek and strong with glistening hair and a mane which shone silver in the moonlight. It was massive, too – far larger than even the workhorses his father kept.

For one moment, it seemed to look directly at him. But then it clambered gracefully out of the loch, and all the water seemed to melt away, running off his shoulders as if off the wing of a bird. It's back straightened; hooves turned to hands and feet and before him stood a man. A man with a strange gray tunic and a long mane of hair which shimmered silver in the light of the moon.

"D-Drew?" the word barely made it past Evan's lips, he was so frightened.

"Aye." Drew padded over and knelt by the smaller man, nuzzling at his shoulder in a rather animal-like fashion.

"I cannae stay away from the water 'tae long," he murmured sadly, "But it kills me mair tae stay a moment without ye."

Evan threaded his fingers through Drew's hair, then down his back to where the angry gashes along his back still were. Drew hissed and caught Evan's hand, bringing it to his lips.

"There's nay man nor beast who trusts the Kelpie," he whispered. His eyes flickered up to meet Evan's gaze, and suddenly an understanding passed between them. Drew was looking into his eyes with a raw longing, and a kind of disbelief that he was even touching Evan, let alone kissing his hand. In a sense, they were both lonely souls.

Evan had subconsciously made the decision as soon as he had arrived at the loch, but now it occurred to his waking mind. He was never going to be able to go back to the town.

Drew spotted the change in the young man instantly, and suddenly his grip on Evan's hand became firmer, more possessive.

"Come with me," he breathed.

It wasn't a request, it was a command. Evan's eyes fluttered shut, and he nodded.

"Ye've always liked the water," said Drew. His voice was low now, deep and meditative. Evan nodded again, and felt strong arms lift him up off the ground. Then the first slosh of water, and the flesh beneath him strained and twisted until he could feel that he was on a horse. Still he did not open his eyes; a strange drowsiness had fallen upon him and so he simply lay across the horse's broad back and allowed himself to be taken slowly under the cool, dark waters of the loch. He wasn't scared to die. In fact, the thought never occurred to him. And when his own skin began to pull and itch, he gave into it freely.

Off in the distance, a strange creature began to howl, and all the animals carried the sound from town to town. There was a cacophony of noise all over Scotland that night, as the warning rang out through the highlands – a new Kelpie had been born.


End file.
